I have recently done a survey, which looked at the differences in how men and women view relationships.
There appears to be five distinct groups of relationships and the different sexes view them differently.
Being Single:
Women - The majority of women, when going out to clubs or pubs, are desperately trying to meet a life partner. Quite often they just end up having a one night stand, but even after he's told her that she's fat and smells and thrown her out of his apartment after sex, a small part of her feels like he was a nice guy and that she could change him for the better.
Men - The majority of men go out to clubs and pubs with their mates to get pissed. If they're able to pick up a slag at the end of the night, all the better.
The short term-relationship
(First date for women. Two years for men.):
Women - Throughout the first date, she will be measuring him up as her life partner.
Men - Throughout the first date, he will be measuring up the size of her breasts.
Women - She will want to connect with him on a spiritual level.
Men - He will want to connect with her while level after too many spirits.
Women - She can't wait to tell her friends that she thinks she's found the one.
Men - He can't wait to tell her friends that he thinks they could have some fun.
Women - Stops looking at other men as potential partners.
Men - Stops looking at other women, while his girlfriend is looking directly at him.
The long-term relationship
(Women - Second date until engagement. Men - A minimum of two year, to life):
Women - They will attempt to sculpt him into the perfect partner. If she feels that he drinks too much and stays out too late with his friends after work, she will attempt to break his spirit with constant reminders of their love.
Men - They will attempt to drink too much and stay out late with his friends after work to escape her constant nagging.
Women - They drop subtle hints about marriage.
Men - They will drop subtle hints about threesomes with her hottest friend.
Women - They only look at other men to compare their inferiority to their beloved.
Men - They only look at other women because they want to fuck them.
Being engaged
Women - Their thoughts about planning for the big day are all consuming. They can't focus on simple tasks like being nice or driving.
Men - They have a license to sleep around before they have to settle down.
Although his fiancee doesn't say it, she expects him to sleep with at least one stripper at his bachelor party.
Being married
Women - Their life ambition has been fulfilled. She can now sit back and get fat and watch soap operas.
Men - Their lives are over.
* The above survey does not apply to all people. Some women are lesbians and some men enjoy romantic comedies.
Tuesday 23 February 2010
Thursday 11 February 2010
What is your purpose in life?
It's one of the big questions. Why are we here? What is the meaning of life? Am I here to make the world a better place? Should I go to India and feed the starving street children?
I have recently discovered that this is all bollocks.
To discover why you're here, you need to understand your body. A few months ago a cricket ball smacked me in the head and I broke my nose as well as cracking my skull. An ambulance was sent out to ask me how much pain I was in. (The ambulance didn't actually ask the question. One of the medics in the ambulance asked the question. If an ambulance had asked me questions I would have thought that I had broken my head.)
Anyway I told the ambulance, as well as the medic, that out of a rating of ten, my pain factor was a three. So this is the yard stick of measuring one's self worth. My brain box bone was broken and I was in mild pain.
Skip forward to a few months later and I was doing some odd jobs around the house, like cleaning out the loft with my ears and painting the ceiling with a cat's tail. Very odd, now that I think about it. So while I was crawling around the loft in the dark I walked into a beam, testicle first.
If an ambulance and a medic had been dispatched to ask me the pain measurement question, I would have told them that my pain factor out of ten, was ten. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. My eyes were watering. I felt like vomiting.
So on a pain factor, I have discovered that one of my testicles is more than three times more important to my body than my brain.
So I have learnt that if I go to India one day and I happen to meet some starving street children, I shouldn't feed them. I should fuck them.
I have recently discovered that this is all bollocks.
To discover why you're here, you need to understand your body. A few months ago a cricket ball smacked me in the head and I broke my nose as well as cracking my skull. An ambulance was sent out to ask me how much pain I was in. (The ambulance didn't actually ask the question. One of the medics in the ambulance asked the question. If an ambulance had asked me questions I would have thought that I had broken my head.)
Anyway I told the ambulance, as well as the medic, that out of a rating of ten, my pain factor was a three. So this is the yard stick of measuring one's self worth. My brain box bone was broken and I was in mild pain.
Skip forward to a few months later and I was doing some odd jobs around the house, like cleaning out the loft with my ears and painting the ceiling with a cat's tail. Very odd, now that I think about it. So while I was crawling around the loft in the dark I walked into a beam, testicle first.
If an ambulance and a medic had been dispatched to ask me the pain measurement question, I would have told them that my pain factor out of ten, was ten. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. My eyes were watering. I felt like vomiting.
So on a pain factor, I have discovered that one of my testicles is more than three times more important to my body than my brain.
So I have learnt that if I go to India one day and I happen to meet some starving street children, I shouldn't feed them. I should fuck them.
Tuesday 2 February 2010
Designing paint colours
My girlfriend and I bought a house together last year and I think it's a nice house. It's very house shaped and has a garden and there are rooms and stuff.
However, when we went out to dinner and talked about the house to friends, my girlfriend kept on telling people that there's still a lot of work that needs to be done to it. More specifically, she said that the rooms weren't really done to our taste. Yes, OUR taste. I don't remember us having this conversation, but I'm sure we had it because she tells people that we are planning on painting soon. Yes, WE will be painting soon.
Anyway "we" decided that we will go to one of these giant paint shops and choose some paint for our bedroom. Our bedroom looks fine to me, but apparently "we" aren't happy with it. So "we" had to change it.
So what colour were we going to choose? Red, blue, green, yellow or black? I think those are all the colours but the paint shop apparently has something like seven hundred different colours to choose from.
As I live in a democracy, the choosing of the paint would be a shared decision between my girlfriend and myself.
This is how a democracy works. My girlfriend ignores all my thoughts on what colour I'd like and then tells me what colour we're going to have. I told her that this wasn't really fair so she said that she will narrow the choice down to three colours and then I can choose any colour out of the three colours she chooses. This doesn't seem like much, but it's better than nothing. So I agreed to these terms.
She then chose three whites. I pointed out to her that she's chosen three whites, but she looked at me as though I'm an idiot and told me that they are three different shades of whites. They even had three stupid names to help distinguish them. The three colours I had to choose from were "Pearl necklace 3", "Fresh corpse 7" and "Incestuous sperm 2".
I was unable to distinguish between the three colours, but felt that it was important that I showed the girlfriend that I was taking my decision seriously. So I put on my serious face. Commented about how each colour would go with the carpet and finally and proudly said, "Pearl necklace 3". She then went to the paint counter and ordered "Fresh corpse 7".
I don't know what she would do without me.
However, when we went out to dinner and talked about the house to friends, my girlfriend kept on telling people that there's still a lot of work that needs to be done to it. More specifically, she said that the rooms weren't really done to our taste. Yes, OUR taste. I don't remember us having this conversation, but I'm sure we had it because she tells people that we are planning on painting soon. Yes, WE will be painting soon.
Anyway "we" decided that we will go to one of these giant paint shops and choose some paint for our bedroom. Our bedroom looks fine to me, but apparently "we" aren't happy with it. So "we" had to change it.
So what colour were we going to choose? Red, blue, green, yellow or black? I think those are all the colours but the paint shop apparently has something like seven hundred different colours to choose from.
As I live in a democracy, the choosing of the paint would be a shared decision between my girlfriend and myself.
This is how a democracy works. My girlfriend ignores all my thoughts on what colour I'd like and then tells me what colour we're going to have. I told her that this wasn't really fair so she said that she will narrow the choice down to three colours and then I can choose any colour out of the three colours she chooses. This doesn't seem like much, but it's better than nothing. So I agreed to these terms.
She then chose three whites. I pointed out to her that she's chosen three whites, but she looked at me as though I'm an idiot and told me that they are three different shades of whites. They even had three stupid names to help distinguish them. The three colours I had to choose from were "Pearl necklace 3", "Fresh corpse 7" and "Incestuous sperm 2".
I was unable to distinguish between the three colours, but felt that it was important that I showed the girlfriend that I was taking my decision seriously. So I put on my serious face. Commented about how each colour would go with the carpet and finally and proudly said, "Pearl necklace 3". She then went to the paint counter and ordered "Fresh corpse 7".
I don't know what she would do without me.
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